


Luncheon in Lowtown

by Cloak_n_Dagger



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Cunnilingus, Drunk Sex, F/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Vaginal Sex, surprisingly little porn and no plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 09:37:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17444396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloak_n_Dagger/pseuds/Cloak_n_Dagger
Summary: Varric is being his talkative self and Hawke needs to find a way to shut him up





	Luncheon in Lowtown

**Author's Note:**

>  

They'd been drinking in the Hanged Man, which was not that unusual. Hawke, Varric, and Isabela had spent plenty of nights playing drinking games there in the past. But Isabela left early. Hawke definitely blamed Isabela; friends don't leave friends drunk and at Varric's mercy. He had been talking her up again, of course. Painting her as some larger-than-life figure, badass and heroic and all those things -things she wasn't, actually- until she couldn't take it any more and muttered

"Andraste's holy tits Varric, do you ever just _shut up_ ".

He'd looked at her with his shit eating grin and said "Make me".

She had trouble resisting a stupid challenge when stone-cold sober, and drunk Hawke was in no way less idiotic or impulsive. Without much thought she'd gotten out of her chair, grabbed him by the collar of his ridiculous tunic, and pressed her lips to his.

For a moment, they were frozen like that, her lips pressing against his slightly open mouth, his lips forming a speechless 'oh', then he'd kissed her back. By the time they remembered there had been people around them -Varric had been telling a story, after all- and they looked up, everyone had shuffled off and was trying not to notice them as if their lives depended on it. For a second, Hawke thought about the ramifications of sticking her tongue down the dwarf's throat in the middle of the Hanged Man -they would never ever live this down if Isabela found out- but Varric had just cleared his throat and was about to speak again, and if she had to hear one more word about herself _or_  a snide remark about how irresistible he was -like she didn't know- she'd probably scream. He seemed to notice, because he closed his mouth without saying a word for the first time since she'd met him, and instead looked pointedly towards his room and back to her.

Right.

Privacy. Not an unnecessary luxury as a well-known author, or as the fucking Champion of Kirkwall.

She grabbed the bottle they'd been drinking from the table and mustered as much dignity as she could while following Varric to his room, sticking out her chin stubbornly at -possibly imagined- judgmental bystanders. Varric somehow managed to look completely unbothered, of course.

As soon as the door closed behind them, he looked at her with one raised eyebrow and a twinkle in his eyes.

"I guess I never knew how badly you wanted me to shut up, Hawke. I could have embellished my stories more."

She pointed the bottle in his direction. " _Please_  shut up."

"Listen Hawke, you're very impressive, but do you have any idea what it takes to shut _me_  up? I have a reputation to uphold."

He was talking again - why was he talking again- but the way his tone shot up at the end of the sentence betrayed tension. An annoyed grunt tore from Hawke's throat.

" _You_  have a reputation to uphold? You're talking to the Champion of Kirkwall, here."  
  
Hawke tried to sound arrogant, tried matching Varric's level of confidence, but while she was an expert at hiding her feelings behind biting sarcasm when facing down blood mages, templars, demons, or Maker forbid, even an Arishok, she faltered while facing the dwarf who'd been by her side through it all. In her experience force usually succeeded where sarcasm failed ,so she reached for Varric with her free hand, expecting to overpower him like before, to _make_  him shut up. Instead he easily redirected her and she fell onto the bed.

"How exactly _did_  you defeat the Arishok, Hawke? Incredible guile and cunning? And lets not forget who cultivates your reputation around here."

A flash of lightning arced from her skin, gathering at her clenched fist before harmlessly finding it's way to the ground. Varric suggestively raised an eyebrow.

"I've heard Isabela talk about what that can do. Are you implying you drunkenly seduced the Arishok with magic tricks? Or... Are you offering a demonstration?"

"You want a demonstration?"

It came out through gritted teeth. She let go of the bottle, tried pushing herself up, but before she could get off the bed he'd joined her there, and two strong hands were pinning her down. Varric was smiling now, his features softened by the lines around his eyes and mouth, and she realised how little he genuinely smiled. There was plenty of chuckling, sniggering, sometimes even a chortle or a laugh of bemusement, but very rarely a genuine smile. It was beautiful, and she kind of forgot what she was doing while looking at it.

Varric cleared his throat. "Not so eager to demonstrate after all?"

Hawke's eyes narrowed as she sparked again, except this time the electricity wasn't completely harmless. It was just enough to sting, and the shock caused Varric to let go. She used her newfound freedom to grab him and roll over until they had switched places and she was straddling him, and kissed him again. He responded passionately, softly biting her lip while running his hand over her back, pressing her into him. When they broke the kiss, she ran her lips along the edge of his jaw, relishing the scrape of his stubble until she reached the side of his throat and bit down. Her hands found their way to his exposed chest, and she buried her fingers in the hair there. She felt the vibration of Varric's low chuckle more than she heard it.

"That's _one_  way to sublimate that terrible temper of yours."

Her hands trailed down and started undoing his tunic even more, removing his belt, as she kissed his throat, moving up until she found his ear.

"You're still not shutting up." She grazed his earlobe with her teeth, and his voice sounded affected when he responded.

"Why would I? I thought you were gonna make me."

He had her there. Problem was, so far nothing was actually working. The minute she left his mouth alone, words started coming out. Okay, so maybe it was time for a change in tactics. She pushed herself up from his chest, and looked at him staring back at her with a cocky grin. His tunic was fully undone, and his broad chest raised and fell with each breath. She followed the trail of hair that started at his chest down and... started working on stripping off her own tunic instead, all the while keeping her eyes on him.

"Listen Hawke, as a writer I must warn you that the term 'breathtaking beauty' is a cliché, it doesn't reflect the truth. People don't necessarily shut up because they see something beautiful."

Unperturbed, Hawke threw her tunic on the ground and continued with her breast band. "Is that your way of calling me beautiful?"

"What, _me_? Call the Champion of Kirkwall beautiful?"

The breast band landed on the floor as well, and as she moved to start on her breeches, she could feel him slowly getting harder beneath her.

"I wouldn't dare. Again, I have a reputation to uphold. I'd use... Radiant, maybe, or ravishing. Intoxicating, if I was feeling particularly cheesy. I thought you knew me better, Hawke."

He tried to feign disappointment, but was not succeeding particularly well.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Flatterer."

Hawke hopped off Varric and the bed, stepped out of her boots and dropped her breeches and underwear, while Varric rolled onto his side and propped his head up with one hand to look at her.

"I have been told I have a way with words."

"I'm starting to wonder if there's anything _else_  you're good at, or if you're all talk..."

She took one step back towards the bed. He reached out with his free hand, caressing her leg down from her hip, then pulling it up towards him when he reached the back of her knee, until she was on the bed again.

"I know you're just trying to goad me into shutting up, but..."

A wicked grin formed on Hawke's face. "But?"

Varric didn't respond immediately, but hooked both his arms behind her knees and moved her with surprising ease until she was positioned above his face.

"But I have a reputation to uphold."

He murmured it, his lips pressed softly again her inner thigh, trailing up, stopping just short of the target, and trailing back down again, up and down, his hands cupping her ass and keeping her steady. Hawke shivered with anticipation.

"Sadist."

She could feel him smile between her legs. His response almost seemed to be directed at her vulva.

"I know ways to make you talk, you know. Or scream, more accurately."

Hawke couldn't suppress a giggle, but before she had time to respond Varric finally found another use for his tongue, and she kind of went nonverbal.

He started out slow, teasing her, pulling her closer to his face and gently licking her clit before pulling away again, until she couldn't take it anymore and just lowered herself onto his face. She closed her eyes and moaned as he picked up the pace, pushing his tongue inside her, then replacing it with two fingers as he started sucking on her clit. She was writhing on top of him, lost in the moment, but when her movements started increasing the distance between them as the feelings became more intense, he pulled his fingers back and scooped her up, throwing her beside him.

Hawke opened her eyes and saw Varric, on his knees between her legs, peeling off his tunic. His erection was clearly visible, pressing against his pants, but he didn't take the time to free it. Instead he dove right between her thighs again, throwing her legs over his shoulders, working on her with his fingers, his tongue... She lost track of time with him there, felt the sheets get wet beneath her, and he was right, she probably screamed when she came, not fully aware of her body anymore, just of the white-hot pleasure building and building until it finally released. She noticed his fingers left her, while his tongue continued to run slow circles, until his mouth left her too. When she looked up, he had lowered his pants and was getting on his knees again, hoisting her up in the process.

His face was all business now, eyes dark with desire, his mouth and stubble glistening with her juices as he aligned himself with her, pressing the tip of his cock against her opening. He looked her straight in the eyes while he grabbed her hips and pushed in. The first stroke was agonizingly slow. He didn't break eye contact, and she couldn't help opening her mouth into a small 'oh' as she felt him fill her up. He paused for a second, then started moving, faster and faster, as she tried to arch her back to welcome him. He moved one hand to caress her clit, and within moments she was on the verge of coming again. He slowed down to deeper, rhythmic thrusts, until they both shuddered as they came.

He let her legs slip off his shoulders, and lowered himself onto his elbows over her. Hawke ran her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck and pulled him in to kiss him. She could still taste herself on his lips. He chuckled as she buried her face in his neck, breathing in the smell of their combined sweat.

"Did that live up to your expectations, oh Champion?"

She sighed.

"You're quite the silver-tongued demon, that's for sure."

**Author's Note:**

> I totally blame nyghtmare for this.


End file.
